


Stay with Me

by a_pious_cruelty



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: F/F, Vague crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_pious_cruelty/pseuds/a_pious_cruelty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her real name is Natacha, but she’s earned the name Black Widow, thanks to a dead husband and another dead lover she left in France before she fled to Germany.</p>
<p>Hansel and Gretel go after a witch known as the Black Widow, but she claims to be suffering under a curse. Sort of a crossover with the Avengers, but not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay with Me

**Author's Note:**

> Natacha is obviously based on Natasha, but she's more of an OFC. 
> 
> Based on a graphic I made for Femslash February, [here](http://apiouscruelty.tumblr.com/post/43251741247/hansel-glanced-back-at-her-you-sure-about-this).

Her real name is Natacha, but she’s earned the name Black Widow, thanks to a dead husband and another dead lover she left in France before she fled to Germany. She’s unusual, with her preference for men. Most witches like children. They especially like to eat them.

“What do you think?” Gretel says, as she and Hansel pack up their weapons.

“Seems pretty straightforward,” he says. “We know who she is. We’ll find her and kill her.”

“Won’t be easy, though,” Gretel says. “If she’s able to keep a husband and an identity, it means she’s able to hide her true face. And that means she’s pretty powerful.”

“Nothing we can’t handle.” He grins at Gretel. “What, are you scared?”

Gretel grins back. “Never.”

They’ve just finished up a job in small, no-name village in the south of Germany. They’re only a day’s travel from where the Black Widow is rumored to reside. They make it to the village in good time.

The people of the village don’t have much useful to tell Hansel and Gretel.

“She’s a witch!” one woman spits. “A she-devil, here to seduce our men and eat their hearts.”

“Right, thanks,” Hansel says. He turns to Gretel. “Heart eating. That’s a new one. Think there’s anything to it?”

“Could be,” Gretel says, shrugging. “Never know what to expect from witches.”

They take one night of rest. They’ll go after the Black Widow in the morning.

At first light, they make their way into the woods. The villagers weren’t specific about where the Black Widow lives; they’re all too afraid to even go in the woods. But Gretel figures it won’t be too hard to find. The Widow will want people to stumble upon it, so she can capture them and then eat their hearts. Or whatever she does.

They find the little stone house within two hours, and Hansel kicks in the door.

The woman inside the house throws herself against the wall, eyes wide with terror. “Please,” she begs. “Please, I have done nothing wrong. I am not what they say.” Her German’s good, not the German of someone who’s had to learn a little just to get by. She’s a woman with some education—not surprising, since she was born fairly wealthy.

Gretel points her crossbow at the Black Widow. “Natacha?” she asks.

The woman nods.

“Look, this act’s not going to work,” Hansel says. “You’re killing people, and we’re just not okay with that.”

Natacha shakes her head vigorously, tears in her eyes. “It’s not an act,” she says. “Please, you must listen. I was cursed.”

Now this is a twist. “Really?” Gretel says. She hasn’t lowered her crossbow. “Do tell.”

“I fell in love with a man, and he with me,” Natacha says. “There was a beautiful woman who wanted my lover for herself, but he loved only me. She cursed me, that anyone who loved me would die. Soon after I married, my husband died. I ran away from that place, hoping I could outrun the curse.” Natacha looks down. “I could not.”

“It’s a good story,” Gretel says. “Very moving.”

“It’s true,” Natacha says. Slowly, she lowers herself to her knees. “My heart has been broken twice. I have lost those I loved. It was my fault—and I may deserve to die for that.” Natacha closes her eyes. “If you must—be quick.” She braces for the blow.

“Pretty convincing, if you ask me,” Hansel mutters to Gretel.

“Yeah,” Gretel agrees. “Maybe we should check her story out?”

Hansel nods. “Get up,” he says to Natacha. “Is this witch still around?”

Natacha gets to her feet. “Yes,” she says. “I have said she is very beautiful, but I have seen her true face. It is the face of evil.”

“So you can take us to her,” Gretel says.

Terror comes across Natacha’s face. “I can’t,” she whispers.

“Yes, you can,” Gretel says. She takes a hold of Natacha’s arm and yanks her forward. “You’re coming with us, and you’re going to take us to the witch so we can kill her. Otherwise, we’re going to kill you. Got it?”

Slowly, Natacha nods.

“Good. Let’s get going.”

——————-

They’ve got enough money from the last hunt to get two horses. No point walking to France if they can ride.

Natacha rides with Gretel, on her own insistence.

“What, you afraid my brother will fall in love with you?” Gretel asks, smiling.

Natacha looks away. “I must be cautious.”

Gretel laughs. “Hear that, Hansel?” she calls to her brother. “She’s afraid you might fall victim to her charms.”

Hansel barks a laugh. “Right.”

Gretel gets up on her horse and holds out her arm to help Natacha up. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” she says to Natacha. “My brother’s no good with women.”

Hansel just shrugs and gets up on his own horse.

They ride until nightfall and then set up camp.

“I’ll take first watch,” Hansel says. He always does.

“Nah,” Gretel says. “You sleep. I’ll watch her.”

Natacha and Gretel sit together by the fire. They’re quiet for a while, until Natacha says, “I’ve heard of you and your brother.”

“Yeah,” Gretel says. “We get around.”

“How did you become witch hunters?” Natacha asks. “Surely you didn’t choose this life.”

“Not exactly,” Gretel says, staring into the fire. She doesn’t really feel like sharing her life story with this woman, who could still be a witch, so she gives the short version. “Me and my brother, we were almost killed by a witch as kids. But we killed her first. Since then, we’ve been hunting down and killing witches.”

“Don’t you wish it was different?”

Gretel glances at Natacha. “What makes you ask that?”

“All I ever wanted was to be with my husband and have a life with him,” Natacha says. “Don’t you ever wish for a life like that?”

“I’m not that kind of woman, Natacha,” Gretel says. “I wasn’t made for a life like that.”

“But it is difficult,” Natacha says.

Gretel shrugs. “Yeah, of course. But I like it. I help people.”

Natacha looks at Gretel for a long time. “I don’t understand,” she says, shaking her head.

“Well, you were born to a good family, right?” Gretel says.

“Yes, I suppose,” Natacha says.

“My family… my family wasn’t like that,” Gretel says. She doesn’t like this, talking about her parents. Makes her head hurt. “All I had was my brother.”

Gretel jumps when Natacha puts her hand on Gretel’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Natacha says.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Natacha says, softly.

They don’t talk for the rest of Gretel’s watch.

The next morning, they take off again, and again, Natacha gets up on the horse with Gretel. Her arms wrap around Gretel’s waist. Gretel tries not to think about being this close to her.

They’re not far from France, and by tomorrow, they should be in the town Natcha’s from. Natacha’s tense during the ride, and when night falls and they stop to rest, she looks terrified.

“You don’t know what this woman is capable of,” she says.

“We’ve got an idea,” Hansel says. “Trust us, we know what we’re doing.”

Natacha shakes her head. “She’s very powerful.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hansel says. It’s hardly soothing to Natacha.

Gretel tries to a gentler approach. She sits with Natacha and touches her arm. Gretel’s hardly better at comforting people than her brother is, but at least she’s willing to try. “He means it,” she says. “We’re good at this. It’s pretty much all we know.”

Natacha looks at Gretel. “I truly hope you’re as good as you believe.”

“Who is this woman, anyway?” Gretel asks.

“Her name is Amira,” Natacha says. “She was once a friend, but she became corrupted. She turned to the magic of the Devil and became what she is now.”

Gretel hasn’t heard much about the origins of witches. By the time she comes upon them, they’re so old and fucked up that no one remembers what they once were. This is a new witch, but a powerful one. Something they haven’t encountered before.

“Do you think,” Natacha says, but then she stops. She swallows and tries again. “Do you think there are good witches?”

“Never met one,” Gretel says, “and I’ve met a lot. So no, I don’t.”

Natacha nods, looking down. “You’re probably right.”

Hansel takes the first watch that night, and by the time Gretel wakes up, Natacha’s asleep.

Gretel tells Hansel about Amira in the morning.

“Huh,” he says. “I always thought it took them a while to get powerful.”

“Yeah,” Gretel says. She’s thinking about Natacha last night, talking about good witches. But that doesn’t mean anything. If Gretel and Hansel haven’t found a good witch yet, she doubts they exist.

It’s only a few hours’ ride to the town, and they ride slowly, talking out their plan.

“I say we knock in her door and kill her,” Hansel says. “It’s what we usually do.”

“Well, it’s not much of plan,” Gretel says, “but I guess it’ll do. We’ve got the weapons.”

“Please, be careful,” Natacha says, reminding them of her presence.

Gretel and Hansel exchange a glance. They’d forgotten about her.

“So you’re going to lead us to her place,” Hansel says. “We’re going to have to trust you after that. Stay out of the way if you don’t want to get hurt. If it turns out you’ve been hiding that you’re a witch, trust us, we will kill you.”

“I understand,” Natacha says in a small, scared voice. If she’s been lying, she’s one hell of an actor.

Natacha tells them how to get to Amira’s house, just on the edge of town, and they get off their horses as they approach the house and get out their weapons. “Stay here,” Gretel says quietly to Natacha. “And, um.” She glances over at Hansel, but he’s scoping out the place, shotgun raised. “If you need to run, just do it.”

Natacha nods. “Thanks you,” she murmurs.

Gretel joins her brother, and they enter the house, weapons up. The room they enter is empty, and so is the next one they move into. They climb the stairs, and there they find what appears to be the room where Amira practices her witchcraft. It’s a mess of animal parts and herbs.

Hansel wrinkles his nose. “Not much of a housekeeper, is she?” He picks up a dead bird and then flings it aside. “Looks like she’s not here.”

“Doubt she’s gone far,” Gretel says. “She wouldn’t leave behind all her supplies.”

“So we wait,” Hansel says, sitting down.

“You wait,” Gretel says. “I’m going to get Natacha, see if I can’t find somewhere safe for her.”

Hansel raises his eyebrow. “You really like this girl, don’t you?”

Gretel’s jaw tenses. “I think she’s innocent in all this,” she says, and leaves.

It’s something she and Hansel don’t discuss, something she’s made clear is not open for discussion. Hansel’s always dropping little comments like that one, though, taking them to the edge of the thing she won’t talk about.

When Gretel was thirteen, she kissed a girl she met in one of the many towns she and Hansel passed through. The girl kissed her back, but when the girl’s father found them, he’d been so enraged she and Hansel had had to run out of the town before they could even get the witch they’d come to kill.

She’d never kissed a girl again, and she’d never wanted to kiss a man, no matter how many wanted to kiss her.

Natacha isn’t by the horses, and at first, Gretel figures she ran away. But why didn’t she take one of the horses?

“Behind you, witch hunter,” a voice hisses, and Gretel turns.

The witch has a hold of Natacha. She’s pressing a dagger to Natacha’s throat. “You should have stayed away, Natacha,” Amira says. “Wasn’t it enough that you took him from me?”

Natacha just whimpers.

Gretel raises her crossbow. “Let her go,” she says.

“You trust your aim that well?” Amira says, smirking.

“No, but I do,” Hansel says, as he sinks a dagger in Amira’s back.

Amira shrieks and lets go of Natacha, who runs to Gretel.

“Run,” Gretel tells her. “Just get out of here.”

Natacha runs, and Gretel lets loose an arrow, which lands in Amira’s neck. But then Amira runs forward and leaps through the air, kicking Gretel in the chest and sending her flying backward. She lands painfully on the ground a few feet away.

“You are tiresome,” Amira says, stalking over to Gretel.

Hansel tries to shoot Amira’s head off, but Amira throws herself down to avoid his blast. Gretel jumps to her feet and runs for her crossbow, rolling as she dives to the ground to get her crossbow. She lets her arrows fly at Amira, who chops them in half with her magic.

“You can’t defeat me,” Amira says.

She’s about to say something else, but her head goes flying across the road, thanks to Hansel’s falchion.

“Nice job,” Gretel says.

Natacha’s there, helping Gretel to her feet.

“I told you to run,” Gretel says. “So. Looks like your curse is taken care of.”

Natacha looks at Amira’s decapitated head and shudders. “Yes,” she murmurs. “Still. She was my friend, once.”

“You said,” Gretel says, rubbing her abdomen. Hansel’s making himself busy getting the horses ready. “But what happened to her?”

“Would you believe she was a good witch once?” Natacha says.

“No,” Gretel replies.

“Then I can’t tell you, because that’s what she was,” Natacha says. “But she turned to darkness.”

“And what are you, Natacha?” Gretel asks.

Natacha looks at her for a moment, then puts her arms around Gretel and hugs her tightly. “Someone who is very grateful,” she says, and then releases Gretel.

“We need to go,” Hansel says, getting on his horse.

“He’s right,” Gretel says. “We’ll take you back to your village—”

“No,” Natacha says. “This is my home. And finally, I can return.”

“They still think you’re a witch,” Gretel says.

“Considering this?” Natacha gestures toward Amira’s grotesque figure. “I think they’ll believe me. Or perhaps fear me more. I’m not sure.”

Gretel hesitates, then puts her hand on Natacha’s shoulder. “If you need someone to confirm your story…”

Natacha smiles. “I know. I can’t thank you enough.” She’s very close to Gretel.

“Right,” Gretel says. “Take care of yourself.” And she turns away to get up on to her horse.

“You’re an idiot,” Hansel mutters to her.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Gretel says, and then they’re off.

——————————

For the next two months, they travel wherever they catch rumors of witches or disappearing children, as they have nearly their whole lives. Every time they’re in France, Hansel asks if she wants to see her.

“See who?” Gretel says, feigning ignorance.

“I bet she’d like to see you,” he says, ignoring her remark.

It’s not until after Muriel, after they find out about their mother, after Gretel finds out what she is—only after all that does Gretel finally agrees to go see Natacha.

She doesn’t know what to expect, but when she knocks on the door of what she’s told is Natacha’s house, Natacha opens the door, sees who’s there, and throws her arms around Gretel.

“Oh!” Gretel awkwardly pats Natacha’s back. “Hello, Natacha. You’re well?”

Natacha draws back, grinning widely. “I’m so happy to see you Gretel.” She looks over at Hansel and Ben. (They left Edward at their camp—didn’t want to draw too much attention.) “And your brother. And a friend?”

“Ben,” Gretel says. “He’s… another hunter.”

Ben straightens proudly. She’s never called him a hunter before.

“Please,” Natacha says, “come in. We have much to discuss, I’m sure.”

They enter Natacha’s home, a cheerful little place, bright with sunshine. They sit together at the small table. Natacha keeps smiling, mostly at Gretel.

Gretel tries to avoid looking at Natacha, but it’s not easy. It’s been so long since she saw Natacha’s face. It’s a very lovely face.

“So, how many witches have you killed in these past months?” Natacha asks.

“Plenty,” Hansel says. “But Gretel should tell the story of the last one. She’s better at telling stories.”

Gretel shoots him a look. “Yeah, well it’s kind of long,” she says.

“Please, tell me,” Natacha says, leaning toward Gretel.

Gretel starts the story. Somehow, as the story goes on, Hansel and Ben disappear, leaving Gretel and Natacha alone.

“I haven’t told Hansel yet,” Gretel says, quietly, “but I’m a witch, too.” She looks at Natacha. “So are you, aren’t you?”

Natacha nods. “But you already knew that.”

“I was hoping you could help me,” Gretel says. “I’ve got my mother’s spellbook, and I’ve got this.” She places Muriel’s wand on the table.

Natacha picks it up and looks it over. Then she snaps it in half.

“Hey!” Gretel says. “What did you do that for?”

“Believe me,” Natacha says, “you don’t need that temptation. Remember, Amira was a good witch who went bad. Power tempts. It corrupts. I don’t want you becoming like Amira.” She puts her hand over Gretel’s hand. “I’ve missed you.”

Gretel looks down and clears her throat. “Yeah?” she says.

“Yes,” Natacha says, tipping Gretel’s chin up so that their eyes meet. “You know my last lover? He was no man, Gretel. He only appeared to be.”

“I don’t—”

“He was a woman,” Natacha says. “She was beautiful, like you.”

Gretel blinks rapidly, unable to speak.

“I like you very much, Gretel,” Natacha murmurs. “Do you like me?”

“Uh,” Gretel says, and then swallows. She takes a breath. “Yes.”

“So you will kiss me?” Natacha says.

“Uh,” Gretel says again. “Fuck.” And then she kisses Natacha, the pleasant shock of Natacha’s lips going through Gretel’s body like lightning. “Oh God,” Gretel says, as Natacha’s mouth opens and her tongue swipes over Gretel’s lips. Gretel kisses her clumsily, wishing she were better at this, wishing she could make Natacha feel as good as Natacha’s making her feel.

“Come,” Natacha says, standing and taking Gretel’s hand to lead her into the bedroom. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Natacha says, kissing Gretel. Her hands slide down Gretel’s back as she kisses her. She draws back for a moment. “Have you ever…?”

Gretel shakes her head no.

“With anyone?” Natacha asks. Her hands slide lower, to the seat of Gretel’s trousers.

Gretel gasps as Natacha squeezes. “No,” she says. “Never.”

“So you are all mine,” Natacha says in a low voice. Her pupils are wide with desire. It’s something Gretel’s seen in some men’s eyes, but seeing it in Natacha’s eyes makes strange feelings stir in Gretel. Especially between her legs.

Natacha pulls on Gretel’s hands, spinning so that Gretel falls onto the bed, with Natacha on top of her. “I will make you feel good,” she whispers, touching her fingertip to Gretel’s lips. “So good.” She moves her hand down the front of Gretel’s body, until her hand is between Gretel’s legs. “Like this,” she says, as she rubs between Gretel’s legs.

Gretel gasps, “Oh God.”

Natacha smiles down at her. “And that is only the beginning, my love. Now. Take off your clothes.”

They move apart so that they can strip out of their clothing—a process that takes some effort, especially for Natacha, who wears full undergarments. Gretel wears nothing beneath her trousers.

Natacha rolls back on top of Gretel and looks down at her. Gretel’s eyes move down Natacha’s body, leaving Gretel breathless with desire to touch Natacha.

“Please,” Natacha says, so Gretel reaches up and touches Natacha’s round breasts, rubbing her thumbs over Natacha’s nipples so that they become firm. Natacha groans. “Yes. With your mouth.”

Gretel leans up and puts her mouth to Natacha’s right nipple, tentatively touching her tongue to it. Natacha gasps, “More,” so Gretel circles her tongue around Natacha’s nipple. She switches to the other, feeling a thrill of power and pleasure as Natacha moans above her.

Natacha tips Gretel’s head back so that they can kiss. Gretel’s hands roam all over Natacha’s body, down her sides, grasping at her buttocks, then sliding in between her legs, through the wetness Gretel finds there.

Natacha throws her head back and gives a loud groan. “Yes, my God,” she says, bracing with one hand and reaching her other hand down between her own legs to guide Gretel’s hand. She moves Gretel’s hand back and forth over something that Gretel knows she too has, but has never allowed herself to touch, until Gretel gets the hang of it.

“Yes,” Natacha pants as she moves against Gretel’s hand. “Oh—oh—” She squeezes her eyes shut and goes still, mouth open. Then she’s gasping again, moving convulsively against Gretel’s hand.

Natacha rolls off to the side and catches her breath. “You are so good,” she says, sitting on her side and smiling at Gretel. She reaches down to push Gretel’s legs apart. Gretel’s heart quickens. She expects Natacha to touch her as Gretel touched her, but Natacha gets between Gretel’s legs and, grinning, bends down.

“God!” Gretel gasps at the first touch of Natacha’s tongue. Gretel’s never been with anyone, but she’s aware of the sexual things people do with each other. She’s not sure what this is called, but it feels good. Gretel threads her fingers through Natacha’s hair and begs her not to stop. She doesn’t.

It feels so good, and it’s even better when Natacha slides a finger inside Gretel. Gretel can do nothing but pant and plead for more.

There’s something building inside her, something she wants so badly to reach—the thing that made Natacha go still and then quake. Gretel has some vague idea of sexual climax, but only in men. And she’s never felt it, herself.

But she can feel it coming now. “Natacha,” she says. “Oh, fuck!” And it sweeps over her, making her body lock up. In the aftershocks, her legs twitch.

Natacha curls up next to her, looking at Gretel with affection in her eyes. “That was good?”

Gretel laughs. “Yes,” she says. “Of course it was good.” She hesitates, then kisses Natacha, tasting herself on Natacha’s tongue. It’s not bad. She’ll have to try that on Natacha, next time.

“Would you stay?” Natacha says. “If I asked you?”

“I—Natacha, my brother—”

“He appears to have an able companion,” Natacha says. “Ben, you said his name was.”

“Yes, but—”

“Don’t you ever wish your life were different?” Natacha says, leaning over Gretel.

Gretel doesn’t answer at first, thinking of that moment beside the fire, when she first met Natacha. “Yes,” she finally says. “It’s not an easy life. But it’s my life.”

“You can choose a different life,” Natacha says. She lies back down. “Think about it, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” Gretel says, as Natacha pressed her body to Gretel’s. “I will.”


End file.
